Silent Knight
by Santa Carla Sunset
Summary: Dwayne had a crap life in NYC and now he's on the run with his son, unsure of where he's going, just wanting to get away. But Hell isn't too far behind and has a plan that'll have Dwayne begging for his old city life back. Histories series.
1. Chapter 1

****Any characters/plots/histories/circumstances, etc. found within the movie/novelization/script or otherwise stated for the movie The Lost Boys isn't mine. Duh. Any characters/plots/histories/circumstances, etc. not found within the movie/novelization/script or otherwise stated for the movie The Lost Boys is mine. So no touchy.****

****I figured it's about time to get the Histories series started since I've had a chunk of Dwayne's story written for a while. I need that kind of jumpstart, you know? So this is Dwayne's story from how he goes from a human in New York to a vampire in California. Posting will probably be my usual sporadic goodness. Don't say I didn't warn you. But I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. All of these stories are stand alone and you don't need to read any of my others works to get them (although I'd love you more if you did :)). I'm writing them non-sequentially so the stories themselves in the greater series will be all over the place but it's irrelevant to their greater posting.****

****vVv****

The coke and liquor formed a milky-looking substance as the rag smeared it across the bar top. At least there weren't any stray needles around. He fought the urge to stab someone with one every time one pricked his finger when he was cleaning up after the junkies. It would have been so much easier to do it too, if they were genuine junkies. The strung out assholes that twitched on the floor or threw up on the bar or snorted blow through the same straw they drank their cocktail out of. The wastes with rags for clothes and nubs for teeth. But these weren't those people. At least they didn't wear rags and had all their teeth. These were Cecilia Langden and Brett Stratham and Gina Marlow. They were actors and actresses and stock brokers that had the money to pile down on the good stuff and get away with acting like trash. The Digm doesn't allow the street type of trash in but if you had the money, you could act it all you wanted.

The only reason Dwayne kept biting holes in his tongue and donning those ridiculous shorts was for the money. He felt like a ten cent whore wearing nothing but Converse and shorts he had to tape himself into so he wouldn't fall out but he certainly wasn't getting ten cent tips. If he let the dog loose, he'd get even more. He was already taking it hard as it was. He didn't need to be reduced to his knees too.

Seth, the owner of The Digm, thought he was a walking god when they passed on the street that day a few months ago. Dwayne was in a t-shirt and jeans and his failsafe leather jacket that was lined with bags of coke and pot that he was muling for money. Skills and school weren't his thing and peddling made him ten times as much as lugging boxes. He wasn't doing this for him but for his son, Kyle, that slept in a warm bed in Chelsea and he wasn't about to forfeit that. Not after what he pulled him out of when he was with Kayleen.

At first he thought Seth was a cop and did his best to push him off but the man just kept coming on. Seth batted for a team Dwayne didn't and he knew that but it didn't mean he didn't try. The promise of thousands of dollars a night just for serving drinks was too rich an offer to pass up, even with his new boss hitting on him. It was a discomfort Dwayne was willing to swallow for the money and for Kyle. He'd heard about The Digm and the parties and the people and even though he'd be the help, he wouldn't be around the scum anymore.

Or so he naively thought. Things didn't go so well when Dwayne broke it off with the ringers but Seth promised him protection as long as he worked there. The lord that tried to stab him in the alley when he was taking out the garbage one night ended up being a feature on the evening news as the cops fished his body from the Hudson. The gang caught on quick and they'd backed off but they were patient. Unlike his customers.

Dwayne got halfway to laid every time he walked out from behind the bar. It was cool at first and the tail he fucked in every corner of that club had the bragging rights of a billboard in Times Square. But it got old quick, especially after that first penicillin prescription. He stopped after that which didn't make the honeys too happy and it really trashed up Dwayne's vision of them all. The only difference between the people in The Digm and the thugs on the street were their jobs. They both had money, they both had ass and they both had drugs. They just took different routes to get it.

Every guy in Seth's employ was gorgeous. All of them wore the same thing and all of them got treated the same way. Neither the bitches nor the queers were at all shy about how they felt about any of the servers. One woman stopped one of his buddies in the middle of a serve and jerked him off. Never spilled a drop of the drinks but had to wait the table with cum running down his leg.

There were different levels of servers at The Digm, Dwayne got to skip the lowest level, bussing, and went right to bartender. That pissed a few of the veterans off and they kept bugging him for head techniques since that had to have been the only way he could jump a ladder rung. A lot of them aspired to work the VIP rooms; best money, drugs and sex in there. Dwayne just wanted to do his job and go home. The thrill wore off way too quickly for this gig and after only a couple of months, Dwayne was questioning whether it was still worth it.

There was just one problem: the gang would be on him and even worse, on Kyle, the second he stopped worked at The Digm. But he couldn't keep doing this forever. He didn't even know if he could make it to the end of the week.

Something wet splashed onto his chest. Dwayne turned his head to face the bar and caught a deep red head climbing on top of the bar with her head dipping down. Her tongue running up his bare chest prickled his spine. He might have been sick of it all, but his body wasn't dead. She sucked his tongue into her mouth and dug her nails into his shoulder. Dwayne played along like the good little bitch that he was until she pulled away and slapped him in the face. When he turned back to her, the half-lidded slurring face of Hollywood's finest actress, Marlena Stenum, was grogging back at him.

"Get me another drink, sweets, and I'll suck your cock when you get back."

The thing was, he could whip it out and slap it on the bar and she'd do it right there if she wasn't unconscious on the floor when he got back. The whole situation would have been a little more tolerable if the speakers were pumping Zepplin or Morrison but disco was the high time and polyester didn't mix with drum solos or his ass shorts. Dwayne grabbed the cleanest rag he could find and wiped down his chest with it. The bitch was so high she wouldn't even notice, or remember for that matter.

**vVv**

It was always just getting light out whenever Dwayne was getting off work. It would be ages before the sun could find its way through the sky scrapers and the blue-gray the morning sky cast on the city blended everything together. He hopped on the E smelling like he just rolled out of an orgy but at least looking like he'd had a hard night in a rock bar, not being Seth's slut at the premiere disco bar in New York City. Not like all that glamor mattered. Rush hadn't even started yet and he was still sharing the car with the homeless that hadn't been shoved out yet.

Molly was already up when he walked in the door, like she normally was. The dark roast was thick in the air and like ritual, she offered him a cup even though she knew he wasn't going to take it. Habit on both sides.

Dwayne really didn't know what he would do if Molly weren't around. He could hire a sitter but that seemed so sterile to her. She was the building's own built-in grandma. She'd been in her rent-controlled apartment since the 40s, still paying the same price, and she'd really taken a liking to Kyle when he'd first knocked on her door selling candy bars for school. She wasn't stupid. She knew exactly what Dwayne did and what he was doing now and despite her religion (which she wore all over her apartment, complete with the velvet portrait of Jesus in her dining room), she treated Dwayne and Kyle like her own family, never lecturing them on the rights and wrongs. Whatever Dwayne did for a job, he didn't bring it home with him and Molly liked that. That and the fact that he was raising his son right for a single dad.

Today she'd brought over some bacon and eggs and a loaf of thick Italian bread. Probably from the bakery down the street. He was constantly telling her he had food but she wasn't hearing any of it. As she walked away from him, her coffee cup in hand to grab her overnight bag, he couldn't help but marvel at her hair. He did it every time he saw her. It was always done up in a salt and pepper bun, pulling tight back on her face, and looked the same the next morning as it did the previous night. Dwayne wondered if she slept bolt upright or upside-down to keep it so pristine but she was a woman of her time and that meant appearance always.

She gave him a goodnight kiss on the cheek before she left, her morning habit with her adoptive son. He had to remember to stick her payment in her mailbox even thought he knew it'd end up right back in his. Molly never accepted his money and said Kyle making her feel young was payment enough.

The couch called to him as soon as he shut the door. A quick glance at the clock told him he had an hour before Kyle had to start getting ready for school and he planned to use that time for the deepest nap he could get in such a short amount of time.

"Hi, Dad," came a sleepy voice from the hallway.

Or not.

"Hey, buddy," Dwayne said as he sat up, resisting the pull of the couch. "Why are you up so early?"

Kyle only shrugged his. He looked just like Dwayne (which was a huge relief for him, knowing Kayleen) but with shorter hair. He could grow up to look like him, just not be like him.

"Just woke up."

"Well, how 'bout some breakfast? Auntie Molly left some bacon and eggs and bread. Want a sandwich?"

Kyle's nod shook the rest of the sleep from him as he ran to the kitchen and flipped on the light. Dwayne cringed at the brightness but went right for the frying pan. He could sleep when Kyle was at school.

**vVv**

_Reviews are always appreciated._


	2. Chapter 2

**I knew it'd been a while since I posted a chapter for Dwayne's story but I didn't realize it's been a year and a half. Sorry about that. Imagine my surprise even more when I had the urge to write a new chapter to find I have four chapters already written and only one published. Score! Saves me a little bit of time at the moment. Hopefully the next chapter will be posted sooner than a year and a half. Enjoy!**

**vVv**

Dwayne always did everything he could to hide the exhaustion from his eyes when Kyle was around but when he kept falling asleep on the train it was a pretty big giveaway. Kyle poked him in the ribs when the subway came to their stop and Dwayne jerked awake. The heel of his hand rubbed into his eye as he grabbed at the pole to hoist himself up.

"Don't let me nod off like that, buddy. Okay?"

Kyle jumped over the tiny gap between the platform and the car and his backpack bounced with him.

"You're tired, Dad. You can sleep."

The turnstile came up to Kyle's neck and Dwayne reached out a hand to push it for him.

"Not on the train. Only bums sleep on the train. Am I a bum?"

His white teeth shone bright against his tanned skin and Kyle wagged his head back and forth. He grabbed onto Dwayne's hand and guided him the block and a half to school. The thumping of his feet on the pavement was enough of a constant jolt to keep him aware of his surroundings. Kids screaming and shrieking and whizzing past him let him know that they were at Kyle's school and the boy was tugging on his hand.

Dwayne willed the sleep out of his eyes as he looked down at this son. The boy had blue eyes and blonde hair like his mother but his skin and smile was all Dwayne's. It was an off combination but Kyle never complained. Not like Dwayne could do anything about it anyway.

"Have a good day at school, okay, kiddo?"

His lips touched lightly on the blonde hairline and his hand came up quickly to pat his head. Kyle reassured him it would be a good day before he ran up the stone stairs and into the old stone building retrofitted to a house a bunch of kids. Only when Dwayne was sure Kyle was safe inside did he make his way back to the subway station. Ever since he'd stopped with the gangs he was paranoid to let Kyle go anywhere by himself. He was too young to ride the subway anyway but like people in the 'burbs have carpools, the city has subway pools. Each parent takes their turn taking their group of kids to school for a week. Dwayne couldn't even handle that. What if the parent looked away and someone snatched him? What if Dwayne fell asleep on the train and when he opened his eyes his son was gone? He wanted to kick himself for being so stupid.

On the short ride home a knot started to form in his stomach. Something wasn't right. Was it Kyle? Should he go back? No, he was safe in school. Only he and his teachers could get at him there. That thought didn't make his stomach right, though. It developed into nausea the closer he got to his apartment. When he put the key in the lock and the door opened without him turning the knob he knew exactly where that sick feeling was coming from.

Without stepping inside Dwayne pushed the door open while positioning his key between his fingers. Nothing looked different. Except for the waste on his couch watching TV. Dammit. She still had a key.

"Who the fuck let you in?"

He already knew the answer but felt the need to ask anyway.

A gaunt head with bugging, bloodshot eyes turned to look at him. The crust around her mouth flaked off when she opened it.

"Still had my key."

She juggled it between her fingers before tossing it over to him.

She looked like a spider sprawled across his couch. She was as tall as he was but was closer in weight to Kyle. She'd gotten worse since the last time he'd seen her. The skin on her face was pulled back tight over her skull and she looked like nothing more than bones wrapped in flesh-colored cellophane. She used to be a beautiful girl but that was all lost somewhere in the track marks pocking her arms.

"Doesn't mean you're welcome."

"I'm allowed to see my son, Dwayne. He came out of my twat, remember?"

"That was a long time ago. Back when you were still human." Kayleen made to say something but Dwayne cut her off. "What do you want?"

"I told you. I want to see my son."

"Like I'd like let him see you like this? You'll give him nightmares."

"I can make Victor make you hand him over."

The threat always came down to Victor. He was the one Dwayne used to work for. Kay'd been fucking him for a few years now and being his number one whore had its advantages.

"And I can make us both disappear. You done?"

Kayleen stood up, wobbling on brittle legs, and walked over to him. Their noses touched. Every time she breathed he could smell the rot from her mouth. He suppressed an urge to gag as her yellowed eyes bore into his.

"Victor knows you're unhappy, Dwayne. He knows that you're just itching to drop that job. It's only a matter of time, isn't it? You won't have your faggy goons to protect you anymore, will you?"

The urge to retort was right at the back of his throat but Dwayne swallowed it down. It's not like the bitch was wrong but he'd be damned if he admitted it. And there just wasn't any point to arguing with her, goading her, pushing her way-to-visible buttons. That'd only mean she'd stay longer and the stink of death on her breath was starting to get to him. Not to mention the coat of grim she left on his couch made him want to slap her. She'd only snap in half with how frail she was now. It was amazing that she still held herself with the same confidence she had when there was a body on her bones. That was all Victor right there.

"I'll say it again: You done?"

He didn't move. He hardly even blinked. He just stared straight in Kayleen's dead eyes and prayed to god she'd get the fuck out of his house. A crooked smile crept up the side of her face and it exposed some blackened nubs that were once teeth. Kyle will never see her like this. Never. Which probably meant he'll never see her again. From the looks of it she'd rather die than give her dragon-chasing up.

"We're watching you, D." Dwayne suppressed another gag as she spoke in his face. "I'll get my son and Victor will put you back into place where you belong. You hear me in there?" She knocked on the side of his head but he didn't flinch. "Your faggot friends can't be around all the time and we're just counting down the minutes until you drop that spot. Even got a pool going. My bet's on the seventeenth so if you could help the mother of your kid out—"

"Out."

It was more of a growl than anything spoken but it didn't phase Kayleen. She just smiled her decaying smile and turned away from him.

With a hand on the doorknob she stuck her head back into the room, her scraggly hair framing her yellow, skeletal face.

"See you later, D."

The door slammed behind her. As soon as he could no longer hear her footsteps in the hallway he relaxed his posture and pressed a thumb into his temple. Dwayne turned to look at the couch to his side and couldn't help but sneer. Bits and pieces of her filth were deposited on the cushions and, no doubt, if he got close enough he could smell her stank. Kayleen was rotting alive and she didn't seem to care. He really needed to get him and Kyle out of the city and away from all this bullshit. It was only a matter of time before Kyle got wise to what was going on. He was a smart kid. Too smart.

Dwayne slumped down even further when he realized he had things to do before he could crash for a few hours and his brain just wanted to scream. But the couch wasn't going to clean itself and the lock needed to be replaced. The bitch was a junkie but he wouldn't put it past her to be smart enough to copy the key before giving it back to him. Victor again. Cunts. Both of them.

**vVv**

_Reviews and favorites are always appreciated._


	3. Chapter 3

**It's a short chapter but still a chapter. Be warned of a slight explicit scene here. I don't think it's too bad in the grander scheme of explicit but I do mention a shaft in reference to a man's dong so there's that . . . Enjoy!**

**vVv**

Spending life constantly looking over your shoulder sucked. And it gave Dwayne a neck cramp. That's all he did whenever he picked Kyle up from school, all the way back to the apartment. By the time he cleaned the couch and replaced the lock it was noon and he was functioning off of only a few hours of sleep. He should have been used to it by now but he couldn't keep his body from faltering. He was human, after all.

Molly was at his door early that night, just like she was every night so Dwayne could sneak into his room and get a little more sleep while she kept Kyle occupied. Kyle knew. Dwayne could see it in his eyes when he walked out of the room a couple hours later. But he never said anything. Didn't make Dwayne feel any less guilty, though.

He was out the door by eight and on the subway to his own personal hell. It was the same thing every night. Get to the club, get changed, set up, stock, eye fuck every patron in the place for money for the rest of the night, go home, repeat on the next shift. If the money wasn't so good he would have dropped the gig for something more normal a long time ago. At least he liked to think.

It was around midnight when Seth sent one of this little nearly-naked errand boys to fetch Dwayne from the floor and bring him up to the office. That was weird. Seth usually kept to himself, or kept to whatever it was he did up there. There were only two reasons Seth called any of them up: to fire them or use them. Dwayne had a feeling he wasn't getting fired.

He followed the little roller boy to the back of the club through a door and up a dimly lit set of stairs. How the kid could maneuver in those skates he had no idea. Right now, going from the pulsing strobes of the club to the dark was disorienting enough. The kid paused at a door at the top of the stairs, waiting for Dwayne to catch up, before he opened it and signaled for the bartender to follow him in.

He'd only been up to the office once, when he was first hired. He could vaguely recall it from memory but as soon as he walked through the door all of the memories came flooding back. There was velour everywhere, hanging on every wall. The carpet was shag and the bed backed up against the far wall took up the length of it. There was a cluster of arms and legs rolling around in the darker corners back there but he didn't take a closer look.

Seth was perched in a red velour chair, his eyes mere slits with residue still under his nose, some kind of drink in his hand and a body just as naked as Dwayne's sprawled out on a chaise lounge next to him. When he first started he was all up for the freak. Welcomed it. Now it was just old and Dwayne walked in front of his boss with his ridiculously small shorts and waited, no hint of excitement or allure on his face. Whatever Seth wanted done Dwayne just wanted it over with.

"Dw-dwayne," Seth slurred as he leaned forward in his chair, sloshing drink over his hand but not noticing. "How is it, how's it going tonight?"

Dwayne kept his hands clamped in front of him and tried to keep his face as emotionless as possible. "Fine."

Seth scrunched his face but immediately spit out laughing. "Oh it d-doesn't look f-f-fine. T-tips not good?" Dwayne opened his mouth to respond but Seth cut him off with a wave of his hand. "N-never mind that. I-I have something that'll, that'll cheer you up." Another wave of his hand beckoned Dwayne to turn around. "This is Steven." The ses all slurred together.

It was just his head that turned, not deigning to twist his whole body around to face this Steven. Oh how he wished he could say that the guy was just another cheap polyester sleaze looking for a good time. But even from where he stood Dwayne could tell the suit was nowhere near polyester. And cheap to this guy was more than what Dwayne made in a year. What the hell did he want?

"D-don't be ssshy, Dw-wayne. Sssay hello to Sssteven."

Fingertips pressed into his bare skin and Dwayne's body swayed against the little weight. That could probably push one of the other little flakes over. But he got the hint. He kept one foot planted and reached out to Steven with his right hand. The suit took it, the shake limp and clammy. He had to use all his might to keep from wiping his hand off on his little shorts.

Dwayne looked back up at Seth and stared. The guy was squinting so badly he probably couldn't see six inches in front of him.

"Sssteven's a nnnew business partner of mmmine. Helps keep thissplace buzzzzzzing. Right, Dw-wayne?"

Dwayne didn't budge. What did this have to do with anything? And why was he wasting tip time up there?

There was a creak behind him but Dwayne kept his eyes trained on Seth. This needed to be done. Now.

"I-I need towelcome him the r-right way, ddon't you think?"

Seth was sloshing more alcohol on himself than what he was getting in his mouth. Like that mattered. The pile of cocaine he'd done before did the trick enough. If not there were always the ludes.

Still, Dwayne remained silent. He had a feeling . . .

Fingertips tiptoed their way up his spine and goosebumps waved across his skin against his will. Somewhere closer to the wall someone moaned. Girl, guy, did it matter?

Dwayne leaned forward what he hoped was slight enough so that no one would notice. The fingertips just pressed harder into his back and Seth slipped further and further into oblivion as he knocked back a few more jangling pills. This had to stop.

"Lllighten up, Dw-wayne. Sssteven picked you persssonally. You'll earn back all your tips and mmore!"

Seth flung his arms out in hurrah and he twirled in his swivel chair, his cup nothing more than an ice holder. He looked like he was sweating. Dwayne needed to leave but if he left so did his job. And his protection. He'd taken smaller hits for the team before. That didn't mean he liked it. There were times when he'd spent an hour in the shower scrubbing his body raw after one of the club's "team" nights. He couldn't stand it. But could he take another hit?

Smooth palms felt around Dwayne's hips, palms that had never known a day of hard work. His body went rigid. Seth just laughed. Steven breathed heavily into Dwayne's hair. Fingertips played at the edge of Dwayne's waistband, deciding which route to take to the treasure. They lingered for only a second before they dove in, maneuvering around his jock and slowly inched their way to the joystick they were seeking. Dwayne's teeth squeaked as he ground his jaw. His hands shook as he kept them clenched in front of him.

"You said your boys were loose, Seth. This one's a little tight." The stench of alcohol swung around and hit Dwayne in the face. Seth laughed again. "I'm sure I can loosen him up."

Fingers started to weave their way around Dwayne's shaft and his elbow flew up into Steven's face. Nope. No more hits.

"Fuck this shit. I quit."

A little voice in the back of Dwayne's mind reminded him how ridiculous he looked stomping off in his little shorts and sneakers. The rest of him was just fed the fuck up. The orgy in the back of Seth's room didn't even falter as Steven cried out and grabbed his face. The smile was just starting to slide off of Seth's face when Dwayne stormed out the door.

He stopped quickly at his locker to grab his clothes. No way in hell he was walking out of the club like he was. He stuffed his sneakered feet through the denim legs and tucked the shorts in as he zipped up. He stuffed the t-shirt into the pocket of his leather jacket and ripped it out of the locker. His hands smacked at faces as he pulled the jacket on while walking across the club. Like he gave a shit.

Dwayne looked over his shoulder and Seth's burly ass bouncers were already making their way through the crowd. They were having a harder time maneuvering the people. Like he was going to wait for them.

He threw open the door and rushed out onto the sidewalk. The noise outside was just as thrumming as it was inside. The line of barely dressed clubbers wrapped around the corner and now that Dwayne'd just come out there was room for one more and they all started screeching. Some started flashing. Like they cared.

Like he cared.

Dwayne's feet pounded pavement as he booked to the nearest subway station. Seth's protection was gone and Victor would know Dwayne was exposed by the time the sun came up.

He hopped over the turnstile and ignored the cries of the station attendant. He and Kyle needed to get out of the city. Tonight.

**vVv**

_Reviews are always appreciated._


	4. Chapter 4

**For those who stuck around, thank you. For those new to the story, thank you too.**

**xXx**

Molly had to be peeled off the ceiling when Dwayne stormed through the door. It was two AM and she'd been asleep with her head at a very awkward angle. Dwayne wasn't normally home until it started to get light out. Molly's face was shocked but the only emotion that could bee seen on Dwayne's face was in his eyes: fear.

He didn't mean to startle her. She was old. She could have had a heart attack. Like he'd need that right now. Dwayne just needed to move quickly and thankfully Molly stepped out of his way.

"Don't got the job no more, do you?" she asked as she absentmindedly grabbed at the cluster of clothes Dwayne was tossing on the couch and started to fold.

An answer wasn't needed. She never asked too many questions but she always understood what was going on. Molly knew about Dwayne's past and while she didn't approve of it she didn't judge him for it. Kyle was happy and healthy and everything a kid his age should be. So why would she complain?

Dwayne tried to make as little noise as he could so Kyle didn't have to wake up until he had to. But rummaging around in his tiny closet wasn't doing much good. There was a duffel bag in there somewhere. Ah! Under little sneakers and toy dinosaurs and little green Army men was the bag Dwayne was looking for. He threw a glance over his shoulder toward Kyle's bed. His son hadn't even stirred. Thank god.

The duffel wasn't big but it wasn't like they could take much with them, could they? Dwayne noticed the neatly folded piles of clothes from Molly. It gave him pause and he tried to shove them into the bag as nicely as possible. He wedged some of Kyle's toys in there and had to nearly sit on the bag to close it. That would have to do.

When Dwayne looked up, Molly was leaning on the back of the La-Z-Boy watching Dwayne work. Her eyes were so content, like this was the most normal thing in the world for her to see. It made him nervous. Why didn't she ask him more questions like a normal person would? Maybe it was for Kyle's sake. She loved him like a grandson and she was eerily empathetic at Dwayne's worst times. Like she could read his mind or something. It probably came with just being around for so long. Didn't make it any less strange, though.

Half of Dwayne's body was wedged under his bed as he groped around for a second bag he knew was somewhere in there. For a few seconds his hand was hitting nothing but dust bunnies in the darkness. No time to turn on the light. After a few more slaps his fingers found the handle and Dwayne pulled himself and the bag out from underneath the bed.

With Molly in the living room, Dwayne just shoved what he could into the bag without care. Wrinkled t-shirts were the least of his concerns right now. On his nightstand was a framed photo of him and Kyle surrounded by lots of grass. Probably in Central Park. It was a few years ago. Kyle still had the baby pudge on his face and his wispy blonde hair was still curly. And they both looked so happy. Genuinely happy. It was a time when smiles reached their eyes and Kayleen was lucid enough to work a camera. For that he moved a few shirts out of the way and tucked the frame into them, nestling it in for safety.

Hanging on the lampshade on that same nightstand was his lucky charm. Kayleen always thought it was morbid. It was a token from his family, meant to keep the evil spirits at bay. The well-worn leather strands were soft in his hands as Dwayne took it off the lamp. The tiny bird skulls clacked together as he lifted the long necklace over his head and lowered it around his neck. The couple of feathers tickled his face and the bones rested against his chest. He could feel the protection circling around him. He'd need all the help he could get tonight.

Dwayne walked back into the living room and tossed the second bag onto the couch next to the first. Clinking and clanging was coming out of the kitchen. He figured Molly was doing something. Making coffee maybe. Right now Dwayne had to get Kyle up.

He walked to his son's door and stood in the frame, his shadow towering over the sleeping boy. He thought about flicking on the light but that was cruel. Whatever was going to happen once they left the apartment was going to be bad enough. Kyle was going to need as much gentle as he could get.

Pain ground into Dwayne's knee when he kneeled and he sucked in air. The light from the hall shone in on one of those little green Army men assaulting his jeans. He flicked the little toy away, along with the innocence that came with it. It was a sign of an easier life that had to be discarded.

He brought his knee back down and leaned over Kyle, gently brushing his hair with his hand and whispering as low as he could.

"Hey, buddy." Dwayne gave Kyle's arm a gentle squeeze and eased him to roll over and face his dad. "Kyle, buddy, wake up."

Kyle gave a throaty moan and he flinched at the dull light from the hall hitting his eyes. His pale little hand reached up to rub at his eye but he didn't say anything. He just blinked at Dwayne and waited for him to explain.

"We've gotta get going, buddy, okay? We've gotta hit the road."

"Now?" Kyle growled as he pushed himself up against the headboard.

"Yeah, now." Dwayne tried to keep his face soft, his actions subdued, but all he really wanted to do was throw Kyle under his arm, the bags over his shoulder, and run. Wasted time was dead time but he didn't want to panic his son.

"Where're we going?" Kyle asked as he threw the blanket off of him and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Dwayne stood up and let Kyle make it the rest of the way.

Thing was Dwayne didn't have a plan other than getting the fuck out of New York. There wasn't any time to think about it. They just had to get far away from where they were standing.

"California." It was the first thing that came to Dwayne's mind.

"California?" Kyle asked from somewhere in his pajama top.

Dwayne grabbed the hem and pulled it the rest of the way over Kyle's head. He really wanted to tell him not to bother changing but if this would keep the calm then so be it. He held onto the pajamas, though. They were Kyle's favorite.

"That's really far away," Kyle said. "We learned in class that it's on the other side of the map."

Dwayne couldn't help but smile. "It is, buddy. It's always sunny and we can go to the beach and breathe fresh air. Nothing like it is here."

"But what about my friends?" Kyle just about had a tiny pair of jeans on.

"You'll make all new friends. You can write to the ones you have here so they don't feel left behind."

Total lie. Dwayne intended to drop New York like a bad habit when they were gone.

"You know where they live?"

Dwayne reached over to pull the shirt down over Kyle's head.

"It's in the bag, buddy."

He grabbed a denim jacket out of Kyle's closet and handed it to him but the boy just shook his head.

"I want the other one."

The leather one. The kid was leather for life since Dwayne bought him the pint-sized biker jacket. He looked like a yuppie on a hog but if that's what he wanted, that's what he'd get. Dwayne grabbed it for him and handed it over. The kid slid into it like a professional. That was a little off-putting.

"C'mon, buddy. Or we'll miss our bus."

"Wait!"

Dwayne was in the doorway when Kyle's voice jerked him to a stop. He turned around and Kyle was back on his bed, digging around in the sheets. When he turned around and walked back over to Dwayne he was holding his well-worn blankie in his hands. The thing looked ancient but it was only a few years old. It was a bunch of different colors but Kyle stuck to the rest part most of the time. He always said it smelled the best. If he didn't have that thing with him the world would have ended.

Kyle walked out ahead of Dwayne and into the hallway but Dwayne was close behind. He grabbed his own leather jacket off the couch and threw it on while Kyle ran over to Molly.

He jumped into her arms and she lifted him up as if he were a feather, giving him a bear hug like a grandmother would. Molly was a commodity that he didn't want to leave behind. She was invaluable but she would never come. Her life was here. Besides, she'd provide the cover they'd need to hide their tracks.

Two little feet hit the ground and ran back over to Dwayne. In his hand was an overstuffed plastic bag. Dwayne looked up at Molly and she smiled.

"For the road."

She walked over to him and placed a warm hand on either side of his face. Her eyes held his for a second before she brought his face down and placed her lips gently on his forehead. She was as much a mother to Dwayne as she was a grandmother to Kyle. He was going to miss her.

"Thank you," he whispered while her face was still close.

Molly just smiled again and slapped his shoulder. "Go."

Dwayne took one last good look at his support system and prayed Vic would just come after him and leave Molly alone.

Little grunts echoed over his shoulder and when he turned around Kyle was trying to pull one of the bags off the couch. He couldn't help but laugh at the effort.

"You just carry the food, okay? I got those."

Kyle let go and held tighter to the food bag. Dwayne grabbed onto the handles of both bags and flung them over his shoulder while reaching out with his free hand to Kyle. The little hand found his and they walked toward the door. Dwayne glanced one last time over his shoulder, taking in the apartment, seeing Molly's face for the final time. She wiggled her fingers in a small wave and Dwayne ducked out the door.

**xXx**

Of course there weren't any cabs around. Dwayne had no idea how quickly the news would travel. He didn't know if Vic had the club cased or not. He didn't know if they'd be jumped going around the corner or if they had a few hours. It was a total guessing game.

A car backfired a block away and Dwayne's head nearly flew off his neck trying to find the source. Kyle was being so good. He wasn't asking questions and he was doing his best to keep up. Dwayne tried not to walk so quickly but even the slightest scuttle in an alley made his feet bound harder.

The wait for the subway was the longest. The trains ran slower at night. Dwayne's eyes bounced from the platform on the other side of the tracks to the stairs leading to the one he was on. They were at the end. There couldn't be any surprises.

A full five minutes later the train pulled in and Dwayne was ready to tear through the car instead of letting the doors open first. The subway cars were the worst. Doors and windows everywhere but still, they were at the end. Kyle wanted to sit but Dwayne made him stand up with his back to the caboose door, just like his was. He made it a competition – whoever could stand the stillest won.

By the time they reached the Port Authority of course Kyle had won.

There were bums in all corners of the station but Dwayne just hurried both of them past and to the nearest ticket window. The furthest west the next bus was leaving for was Louisville, Kentucky. Whatever. Dwayne dropped the bags, pulled out his money and paid for the tickets. They had ten minutes.

They scurried along to the bus port, Dwayne throwing looks over his shoulder every other step. He nearly threw their bags in the luggage compartment and Kyle stomped his way up the stairs and into the bus, the food bag slapping into everything as he went.

Before making the climb himself he gave a good glance around him but didn't notice anything off kilter. On the bus were only a handful of heads, most already nodded off. He checked each seat as he passed it, making sure there wouldn't be any surprises once those doors closed.

Kyle had already made his way to the three-seater in the back, unintentionally reading Dwayne's mind. He settled himself into the seat directly in the aisle's path, a perfect line of sight to see anyone getting on. Kyle, for the moment, was busy at the window pointing things out.

According to the clock at the head of the bus they had five more minutes before they headed out of the city. Dwayne took a deep breath and kept his eyes toward the front of the bus and his ears on Kyle.

**xXx**

_Reviews are always appreciated._


	5. Chapter 5

There was no telling how far Victor's reach really was. Dwayne knew it was long but he'd just have to hope that word was slow and he and Kyle could travel faster. Memphis was their first major stop after twelve hours on the road. Kyle was slumped against the window and Dwayne had started to lose feeling in his ass. Staying awake was getting harder and harder as his chin kept bouncing against his chest with each nod off. Their transfer didn't leave for another eight hours. They had to find somewhere to crash.

When the breaks squealed and the bus lurched to a stop Dwayne gently rolled Kyle toward him in a bid to wake him up.

"C'mon, bud. Time to get up."

Kyle groaned and rubbed his little fists into his eyes. "Are we there yet?"

"Not California, no, but we get off here for now. C'mon."

Dwayne wrapped his giant's hand around is son's baby one and gently gave his arm a tug. Kyle's eyes were slitted with exhaustion and he lumbered down the aisle with Dwayne nearly tripping over him with every step. The bus leaned with their descent down the stairs and into the humid Tennessee air. It wouldn't be dark for hours yet but their best move was to find something to eat and duck into the nearest motel for a few hours of sleep before heading off again.

The Memphis bus terminal wasn't as big as the Port Authority which equally calmed Dwayne as much as it unnerved him. Fewer spots for someone to tuck away in but the two of them didn't blend in as much in the smaller crowds. A quick glance around showed him multiple exits, a cluster of homeless men around a trash can and just enough commuters milling about that he couldn't pick up on anyone suspicious. His gut was usually pretty good and right now no alarm bells were going off.

Ducking into the terminal lobby Dwayne walked the two of them across the floor and to a door as far opposite from them as he could get. The handle was sticky and he wiped his palm on his jeans in a feeble attempt to get rid of the gunk. What greeted them outside wasn't a whole lot of much. When a plane screamed overhead he knew why. They were near the airport, on the outskirts of the city. They may need to do a little hunting.

A short walk down the road brought them to a dank budget motel with a twenty-four hour diner across the street. It'll have to do. With his son's hand in his they walked into the diner and ordered their share of spectacular diner food. Kyle seemed to wake up a bit at the idea of waffles for dinner but that was short-lived when, five minutes later, he had nearly fallen asleep in a puddle of maple syrup. Dwayne threw down some cash on the table and they scurried out of the diner and into the motel lobby to check in.

The room was well-worn and about a decade out of style but it had beds and a lock on the door. It would do. Dwayne tried to ignore the mystery stains on the carpet and Kyle didn't even notice them. He dropped the plastic bag he held at the foot of the bed and made to pull the cover back until Dwayne stopped him.

"Shower first, buddy. C'mon."

That's when the whine started and Dwayne could hear the tears creeping up with the pitch in Kyle's voice. He almost gave in but he knew it would be easier to get all the washing done now rather than at two in the morning.

"None of that. Let's go. Real quick."

The whine continued around the bed and was met with stomps on the way to the bathroom as Kyle peeled out of his clothes himself. Dwayne was surprised at how little work he had to do. Kyle must have been so tired that all his energy was focused on the fit about not taking a bath that he didn't even notice he was standing undressed in the bathroom.

Keeping good on his word Dwayne kept the bath to five minutes. Any longer and Kyle would have had his face pressed to the tile and snoring. As it was Dwayne was nearly there himself but he pushed through it enough to dry off his son, dress him in some fresh clothes and tuck him into bed. The kid was out before his head even hit the pillow.

Before heading into the steam himself Dwayne double-checked the deadbolt and chain on the door and the latches on the windows. All sealed up tight. It still made him uneasy to leave Kyle out of sight but the kid was dead to the world and they were locked in. He left the bathroom door fully open just in case.

Water near scalding patted against his reddened skin, the steam lulling him into a daze on his feet. He wobbled but caught himself on the wall and shook the sleep away. A bone-tired soreness came over him and it was all he could do to remain standing in the sauna he was creating in the dingy motel bathroom. Cracked tiled, a faded gray tub that at one paint used to be white, a shower curtain that he tried his damndest to keep away from his skin. He hoped this wasn't their life, the start of being on the run indefinitely, of being worried, looking over his shoulder for the both of them. They just needed to get away, bury themselves in a population somewhere far away and they could start again.

California.

His shoulders were still tense, carrying the weight of his stress in the shape of the world but Dwayne forced himself to turn the shower off and pat himself down with a towel that could have sanded the paint off a Buick. Whatever. He was clean.

In just a pair of boxers he crawled into his own bed, a smile creeping across his cheeks as he watched Kyle breathing deeply, nearly lost in the pile of pillows and blankets around him. He set the alarm for two and watched the digits flip to the next minute: 6:12. It was still light out and the evening sun filtered through the cracks in the curtains but that certainly wasn't about to keep Dwayne awake. He flicked off the light, plunging the room into near-darkness, and didn't even remember lying all the way down.

He could have sworn all he did was blink when the alarm sounded its shrill death knell throughout the room, wrenching Dwayne so violently from his sleep that the room spun. He slapped at the nightstand a few times before finding his mark and shutting the damn thing off.

With the heel of his hand he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and blinked himself the rest of the way awake. The room was full dark now, the cracks in the curtains letting in nothing but the dead of night. With tentative fingers he groped for the light switch and flicked the lamp on, groaning as the light pierced his eyes. From the other bed Kyle moaned and threw the blanket over his head. It was harsh, having to force him out of bed in the middle of the night, but they had a bus to catch. Otherwise they'd be stuck there until midday and they were still too close to New York for Dwayne's liking to be sitting still for so long.

"Got a bus to catch. Let's go."

Dwayne pushed himself out of bed and staggered over to Kyle's side of the room. He'd successfully cocooned himself in blankets and didn't look like he was willingly coming out. A couple gentle tugs on the bottom of the blanket didn't get him anywhere. Just a few more kid moans that seemed muffled by pillows. So he fisted the blanket and gave it one good tug. It slid away easily and left a Kyle-shaped lump in the middle of the bed, his eyes squeezed tight and a desperate attempt not to smile twitching on his cheeks.

"Let's go. Up."

A grunt into the mattress was his answer. As much as Dwayne enjoyed these moments they had somewhere to be. They couldn't play around forever. With a single muscled arm Dwayne scooped Kyle up and flipped him over his shoulder. The giggles could no longer be contained and Kyle let out a squeal of laugher. Dwayne flinched but laughed anyway. It was too early for that kind of noise and he didn't want to wake anyone else up. The least amount of attention they brought to themselves the better.

After pulling on some jeans and his little leather jacket Kyle was ready to go, sitting on the edge of the bed and kicking his legs against the mattress. Dwayne was a little slower to move but he tried to hurry himself along. Staying awake until two was a whole different animal than having to get up at two. He felt like he had a mattress tied around each leg and all he wanted to do was plop. But the thought of Victor and Kayleen catching up to them was motivation enough.

He swung the duffel over his shoulder and motioned Kyle toward the door. They'll stop at that greasy spoon they ate at when they first arrived. They had enough time. The rattle of the chain seemed to echo around the dreary room and the deadbolt clicking back was a boom in Dwayne's ears.

In that second the world grew more sinister: the shadows became blacker, the silence more deafening. The back of his neck prickled and Dwayne had a sudden, overwhelming urge to not open the door. Find another way out. But there was none. What was he afraid of? He couldn't pinpoint it but his gut was screaming at him to stop. Don't turn that knob. Except he didn't have a choice. He stepped in front of Kyle, using the whole of his bulk to shield his son, turned the knob and slowly opened the door.

At first it was just the dark of night, a sad, shadowed parking lot with some flickering streetlights over it, faking safe. The dumpy lobby building off to the left had the lobby light on and nothing else. The motel sign was missing a couple of letters. Dwayne could hear the buzzing from where he stood.

Then the brights lit up the night and all he could see was blinding white. He shoved Kyle even further behind him and heard the boy stumble, cry out.

"Stay there!" Dwayne nearly shouted but it came out closer to a choked whisper.

He closed the door so it was only open a crack, widened his stance on the cracked sidewalk and dropped the duffel, trying not to wince in the blaze of headlights and failing.

"You move fast, Dwayne. But you ain't slick."

Fucking cunt. How the hell did Kayleen catch up to them so quickly? Sure he wasn't being covert about it all but he didn't expect them to be tearing at his back.

"Victor gots eyes everywhere. They always watchin'."

A door squeaked open but never crashed shut. Kayleen cast a silhouette against the light as she stumbled over to him, leaning on the hood for support. She stopped in front of one of the headlights and allowed him a little more sight. The bags under her eyes seemed to glow in the haze around her and she looked to have lost even more weight in the short amount of time since he'd last seen her. Her arms were pipe cleaners knotted together as she crossed them over her barely-there chest.

"I want my son."

"The fuck you do."

Dwayne didn't want to swear in front of Kyle but this bitch . . . he couldn't help himself. It just spilled out. She really did bring out the worst in him. His arms at his sides, his leather jacket creaked with every twitch. His fists were clenched so tight he could feel the skin pull taught across his knuckles. This disgusting thing in front of him, she needed to go.

"Now, Dwayne. Don't be using that language in front of Kyle. We don't want him growing up a potty mouth."

"He'll be lucky if that's all he ends up with you watching over him."

She smiled, her lips tightly pursed, her eyes crinkling but the smile never actually touching a gleam to them. Dead eyes.

"Me and Victor can give him so much more than you ever could."

"Over my dead body."

Kayleen merely shrugged. "That can be arranged."

Cold, hard steel pressed into Dwayne's temple and it was all he could do not to flinch. He never even saw the guy creep up on his side, whether he was too focused on Kayleen or the guy was good at blending in with the dark he had no idea. But now Dwayne had a problem: he dies, Kayleen takes Kyle. He lives, she takes Kyle by force, Dwayne hunts them down and reclaims his son. Those were the choices.

He wasn't dying now. Dwayne was going to go down fighting and he'd take as many of these assholes with him as he could. Kyle was his top priority. But no matter how much he denied it, that meant letting her take him now without a fight. His heart clenched. It was the last thing he wanted to do. It was also the lesser of two evils. Dwayne dying now wouldn't help his son in the slightest.

Kayleen stretched herself out, craned her neck and called, "Kyle, sweetie, come to Mommy."

In the strained silence of the night not even wind blew. Humidity hung heavy in the air and Dwayne's shirt was sticking to his back. Nothing stirred. Not even Kyle behind the door. The hinges didn't even squeak.

Kayleen flicked her head toward the door and another body formed from the shadows behind the headlight. The burly thug walked toward Dwayne and he tensed, death metal on one side, fists of death on the other. But the guy veered around him and headed for the door.

Dwayne lunged, or tried to and froze as the hammer at the side of his head was cocked. No stupid moves. He couldn't make any stupid moves or he'd end up with a bullet in his head and Kyle would be lost.

A child's squeal rang out of the room and all common sense evaporated. Dwayne turned and this time he did lunge for the door but before he reached it pain exploded in his head, bursting stars in front of his eyes, and he staggered to his knees. The barrel had shifted and now pressed to the back of his head. Dwayne's vision was bleary and doubled and he reached for the man carrying a kicking Kyle out the door but he easily dodged the father's weak fingers.

Small squeals and grunts passed him by and tears clouded Dwayne's sight even more. The pressure on the back of his head lifted as a slender shadow loomed over him. He looked up and he could just make out the outline of Kayleen's bony shoulders, her wired, scraggly hair. Her face was covered by a curtain of black. It was better that way. His head hurt enough without adding her face to it.

"He's my son, Dwayne," she said as she shifted from foot to foot.

Dwayne blinked slowly. He heard the words, even understood them. So why wasn't he moving? His head hurt too much.

"I'm taking him where you ain't never gonna find him. Me and Victor. So fuck right on off."

It was like trucks smashing in his head as the gun came down on him a second time. Pain was a bomb and it kept detonating in his skull, fireworks of hurt as Dwayne dropped to all fours. Spit collected on his lips. He could feel it. But nothing made him wipe it away as it dangled and then dropped to the cement.

Kyle. He had to get Kyle.

A faint 'yee haw' drifted to him in his fading consciousness and the image of cowboys came to his broken mind. Kyle in a little cowboy hat, stupid tasseled chaps, ugly cowboy boots. Yeah, he'd like to be a cowboy.

Like the bones were wrenched from his body Dwayne crumpled to the sidewalk as the bright lights left him in the dark. The cement was cold despite the muggy night and it crept through his t-shirt. Kyle's face came to mind one more time, his sweet, innocent son dragged through the garbage of his life. Tears streaked down his cheeks and Dwayne inhaled a ragged breath before even the streetlights winked out and the darkness took over.


End file.
